Echoes of Power
Fumiko Saito, a middle-aged woman with short dark hair, greeted the students as they entered the room. The Japanese teacher seemed to have already been waiting for them for a few minutes when they arrived, inviting them to take place as soon as they walked in. Alexandre greeted her with a smile as he walked towards a nearby table, the asian-american woman had been his teacher for the past two years already and he always enjoyed her classes despite her very formal and strict attitude.
“Not in the back please.” She said with a wave of her hand towards the first rows as a few of the students were about to choose the furthest seats.
As soon as everyone was seated she began introducing herself, writing her name in both Roman alphabet and kanji on the board, and then asked each of them to do the same in a few words. Once it was done she promptly began her lesson, not bothering to tell give them details about the program of the year which was, to her, not important. They began with a short exercise where they had to talk about their summer holidays which, the light-haired teenager knew, would allow the older woman to get a better understanding of their level.
Alexandre was listening intently to the others as they gave a few details about what they had done in the last few weeks, he like to be prepared for his turn to speak and picking up a few words of vocabulary here and there could never hurt. It was the turn of a blonde girl, her name was Mary if he remembered well, when he felt the unpleasant albeit familiar buzz ring in his ears. The teenager heard the strange whispering that sometimes came to interfere with his daily life, he had managed to keep the voice and its existence locked in a corner of his mind for some time now.
But, predictably, it always came back at one point or another. He had felt it since the early morning, that it would surely come up at some point. Why now? He thought with a silent curse, this was definitely not the time. But after all, had it ever appeared at a convenient time? Before long he found himself focusing entirely on the voice and the words it was whispering in a low and monotone sound, trying to understand what it might be saying, however he was unable to understand anything. Exactly as usual, he sighed. He was pulled in a semi-lulled stated by the hypnotic rhythm of the voice and did not realize the teacher was calling him so that he would in turn talk about his holidays until she loudly cleared her throat.
“Well, Mr. Parson, we are waiting for you.” Declared the dark-haired woman who seemed to have very few strands of white hair for her age. Alexandre quickly looked around him and noticed the others were all looking at him with slightly amused smiles, waiting for him to speak. He must have looked as if he was daydreaming again. Well, at least I’m not doing crazy stuff while I’m out of it… he thought with a small sigh of relief, could be worse.